Aunt Angela Explains It All
by Seeker19
Summary: Angela gets impatient and decides to help Booth buy a clue about B/B. They both find out things they didn't know about each other in the process.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Here as promised is Booth's little chat with Angela. I know, I know. I should have been working on "Tough Decisions," but what can I say--short fics are much easier to write. It's more or less a sequel to "Third Degree," if you're interested in reading about Bones' chat with Angela. Bones and the gang belong to Fox, Hart Hanson et al. No infringement is intended. Please let me know what you think. Thanks.

* * *

As Special Agent Seeley Booth drove toward the Jeffersonian, he wondered why Dr. Temperance Brennan wasn't answering any of her phones. It was very unusual for her not to keep him informed of how to get in touch with her, since he often had to call her in on a murder case at very short notice. However, since Christmas, they had only gotten together about cases that were already pending before the holidays, so Brennan had apparently forgotten to keep Booth 100 percent apprised as to her whereabouts. 

Normally he would have called Angela Montenegro for information, but he had been avoiding her, or trying to, since Christmas. Somehow she seemed to know that something "Big" had happened between Brennan and Booth, and she was determined to find out exactly what it was. Booth hoped that he didn't have to endure one of what he called her "fact-finding chats" today. Every time she caught him on his own, she subjected him to one of her not-so-subtle attempts to discover just how close he and Brennan were, and how their relationship was going in general, etc. This was no problem when it was business as usual, but ever since "The Kiss" under the mistletoe, Booth knew how a "deer in the headlights" felt every time he saw Angela. He had to use all of his considerable expertise in hiding his emotions and/or unconscious gestures from her eagle eye.

Booth sighed. He knew that the squints in general and Angela in particular were only interested in seeing Brennan happy in any relationship. Unfortunately, that meant that sometimes they viewed Booth as a "good guy" and sometimes they viewed him as a "bad guy," depending on Brennan's emotional "temperature"du jour. This had been especially noticeable when she had been dating Sully. Angela had made it pretty blatantly obvious to Booth that since he was unnecessary to Brennan's apparent happiness with Sully, she didn't give a damn how badly Booth got hurt personally or professionally. Her attitude had been, more or less, that if Brennan was happy with Sully, Booth was expendable.

Booth totally understood her point-of-view as Brennan's friend, but it didn't make him feel confident that Angela was _his_ friend for life. In fact, he was pretty sure that if Brennan ever dropped him from her tight circle of friends, he would never see or hear from any of the squints again. Not because they didn't like him exactly, but because of how awkward it would be. So Brennan would naturally get custody of the squints, except Cam, for obvious reasons.

Which was fine with Booth. He had learned the hard way that that was the way life was, and he had gotten through most of his adult life by "traveling light" when it came to close personal relationships. The number of true friends that he had made as an adult consisted of a very small and select group, and the number who had survived combat was even lower. After he left the army, he had tried to run his life in much the same way—you couldn't help getting close to the people you worked the closest with, but you kept all others at a friendly distance. In combat, you behaved that way because the potential loss of so many close friends was too horrific to contemplate. In civilian life, Booth just found it easier to live that way. Then if your "friends" decided you were boring because you were a workaholic who was too dedicated to his job, it didn't matter too much if you never saw them again.

Booth considered Brennan to be one of his small group of friends. What he wasn't so sure about was how she viewed him. There were times when he got the impression that he was necessary to her, and therefore he made certain that he was always there for her. Then again, there were times when she seemed to do very well while keeping her relationship with him on a professional level only, as she had when she had been dating Sully. In short, he never quite knew where he was with her, and the "The Kiss" incident, as he had come to think of it, was just the most recent glaring example. Women who blew hot and cold were incredibly consistent compared to Temperance Brennan.

Up to now, Brennan had treated 'The Kiss' like an impersonal, unimportant incident that was totally a result of Caroline Julian's 'puckish' whim. That was OK in theory, but in practice, it hadn't felt like that to Booth. In fact, it had been a pretty mind-blowing experience for him, and he had gotten the impression from the look on her face that it had affected Bones that way too. He found that he couldn't look at Brennan and not remember "The Kiss." He couldn't think of Brennan and not remember it. In fact, you could almost say the memory of it haunted him, because it came into his mind when he least expected it during the day, and at night he even dreamed about it. He would give a lot to know if Brennan felt even a small fraction of the response that he had felt.

Unfortunately, if you went by the way she acted and what she said, Brennan didn't seem to even remember "The Kiss." She treated Booth with the same friendly professionalism that she had before Christmas. Yet there were times when he could swear that she looked at him like he was a difficult puzzle that she was trying to analyze and couldn't find the answer to. Given Brennan's adamant refusal to discuss their relationship at all, except in the professional/partner sense (where coffee-drinking meetings featured prominently), Booth had decided that the only thing to do was wait for her to make the first move the way he always did.

Any other course of action always resulted in Bones putting her emotional walls back up and going back to the point where their interactions had been on a "professional" basis only. So far, she had done this following each of their summer vacation breaks. She always had a different "logical" excuse for avoiding any interaction that was "too personal," but that didn't make it any easier for _him_. He was all too painfully familiar with Brennan in full avoidance mode, and he didn't want to do or say anything that would bring that back. So he waited, and tried to dodge Angela as much as possible.

When he finally arrived at the parking garage, he was lucky enough to find a spot right away. He walked quickly to the entrance of the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal Lab. As he headed toward Brennan's office, he was stopped in his tracks by the voice of forensic artist Angela Montenegro.

"Don't bother, Booth," she said cheerfully, "She's not back there right now. She's in a meeting with a visiting forensic anthropologist from the University of Florida."

As Booth turned, she continued, "How are you today? Do you have a new murder case for us or is this just a 'friendly' visit to see Brennan?"

Booth eyed Angela warily. The interrogation would begin any time now.

"I have some paperwork for her to sign," he replied briefly, "regarding the Anders case."

"And it's obviously something you couldn't trust to a courier or inter-office mail," Angela said facetiously.

As he opened his mouth to explain his presence further, she said, "Oh don't worry, Booth. I'm not going to ask you any personal questions. Bren already told me all I wanted to know." Angela turned and walked back to her office. It took all her self-control not to laugh out loud at the brief look of panic on Booth's face. But she had to hand it to him: his expression was back to bland unconcern a micro-second later. Someone who didn't know him well would have missed it. He was good. He was very, very good.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Angela," he said in his best "I don't care" drawl. "Do you have any idea when Bones will be back?"

Outwardly he was all calm and unconcerned, but inside he was thinking, 'God, what the hell did she tell Angela? That is, if she did tell Angela anything. Maybe this is just a ploy to get me to talk. I'd better just stonewall her for now.'

Angela turned and grinned at Booth. She couldn't help it. He was so determined not to reveal anything to her, and it wouldn't do him a damn bit of good. She knew both of them so well that the small amount of information Bren had revealed told her everything she needed to know about Booth. But given the fact that she was past ready for _someone_ to make a move already, and Booth was the logical candidate, she took pity on him.

"Come on sweetie, let me buy you a cup of coffee. There are a couple of things I think you should know," she said kindly. She turned and led the way to the coffee machine. Booth did not completely trust Angela's suddenly expansive mood, but the small hope that she might actually let drop a crumb of information about Bones' reaction to "The Kiss" made him decide to risk it. He followed her into the lab kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

** Author's Note**: This one is turning out to be a little longer than "Third Degree," but so far I don't think it will be more than two more chapters. Again, not my characters, Fox's, etc. No infringement intended. Please let me know if you want more. Thanks.

* * *

As Booth followed Angela into the kitchen, he couldn't help thinking "Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly." It was one of Parker's favorite creepy poems because the little boy was fascinated by spiders, but Booth had always felt a distinct kinship with the doomed fly. Which was weird given that he had spent a large portion of his adult life acting as a stealthy predator. He wondered what Dr. Wyatt or Dr. Sweets would make of that. Probably a lot. Luckily for him, they weren't around to try. 

He hoped that Angela wasn't going to try to pin his guts to the wall for the amusement of the other squints today. They still tended to gang up on him if he showed any weakness, so he always tried to present a strong front when he came into the lab. It didn't take much for them to start in on him—especially Angela and Hodgins. Sometimes it felt like their favorite sport was trying to get Booth's goat, especially Hodgins. And nowadays, Angela and Hodgins were an inseparable team.

Of course, he was used to that kind of behavior. He had learned it on the public playgrounds of his childhood, where any sign of weakness was treated as an excuse to go for the jugular, psychologically speaking. Sensitivity was definitely not a plus in that type of environment, so he had learned to be very tough, at least outwardly. The squints had all been on the receiving end at one time or another, so he was the unlucky recipient of their combined revenge. He could take it, but didn't like it because he knew it didn't help matters when you were trying to work with each other. So he was determined not to give Angela any ammunition today if he could possibly help it. Some of the squints' jokes had seemed borderline sociopathic as far as he was concerned, but they had just accused him of having no sense of humor. In Booth's opinion, squints had a demonstrably abnormal sense of humor.

Still smiling faintly, Angela handed Booth a cup of coffee the way he liked it. She added sweetener to her own cup, picked it up, and headed back to her office.

"Everyone else is either giving our visitor the grand tour or attending a meeting of the techies about a very old skeleton found out in the desert in Arizona," she said, "So we have the lab to ourselves temporarily."

"So what did you want to tell me?" Booth asked, sitting down and cutting to the chase. He decided that the best way to handle Angela was to take the offensive immediately and try to throw her off with a little deflection and misdirection.

"I just want to talk, and I seldom get the chance during normal working hours," Angela replied reasonably as she sat down and leaned back in her chair. "Why are you so suspicious? What are you afraid I'll do?"

"I'm not afraid. I'm concerned that you and the rest of the squints will pull one of your little jokes on me, and I really don't have time for that," Booth said.

"But Booth, I_ would never_. . ." she began in a fake wounded voice..

"Oh yes, you would," Booth jumped in. "And don't think you can fool me by batting your eyelashes and looking innocent. I can tell when you're in on it, and you usually are these days. And I can tell when it's just Hodgins. Or Hodgins and Zack. The jokes are different. And given the way you and Hodgins enjoy giving me a hard time, I always expect the worst when you two are bored like you have been lately."

Booth was gratified to see that Angela looked surprised. That was good. It would help to keep her off balance. Gaining momentum, he continued his rant. "The absolute worst was when you took a picture of me with a cell phone and photoshopped my head onto some guy from a porn site," Booth seethed.

"Booth, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with that. I always disqualify myself from the artistic contests because that's what I do for a living," Angela defended herself in a rush, trying not to laugh. "Besides, it was all in fun. They did it because you refused to pose for a picture like all the other contestants. And besides, you _won_ the contest. They voted you _both_ 'The Guy I'd Most Like to Be _Lost_ With' _and_ 'The Guy I'd Most Like to Get Voted Off the Island With.' The picture was just somebody's stupid idea of a joke."

"I refused because the idea was nuts and I was right. I still think the computer geeks could have caught the person who did it if they'd really tried. For months, I couldn't walk into the building without some knucklehead mentioning that stupid picture to me. You people are lucky some of you weren't fired for using government computers," Booth still sounded pretty angry about it.

"You know perfectly well that all of it was done on home computers, Booth. Dr. Goodman made sure of that. Even though they never found out who did it, they made sure there were no traces on the lab PC's. And unfortunately since you're a public figure because you've worked on some pretty high-profile cases, your image is pretty much fair game. If it makes you feel any better, there's a lot worse than that on the internet about lots of TV stars and other celebrities. It's not like it's just you being singled out."

"I'm the only one I care about. And what about my family," Booth said. "I have a young son. What if he comes across that some day? What the hell do I tell _him _when he asks me if I posed for it?" Booth looked his most defensive and pugnacious when talking about Parker. It was obvious to Angela that the picture was obviously still a very sore spot with him. She hadn't really thought about Parker at the time. She had just thought Booth could dish it out but he couldn't take it. She hadn't met Parker then. But now she could see his point about wanting to protect his little boy.

"I'm really sorry about Parker, Booth. I think the world of him, I really do. I'm sure that if he ever does find out about the picture he'll understand that it was just a bunch of people with high IQ's and low EQ's playing a juvenile prank."

She paused. "But that's not why I asked to talk to you," Angela said, thinking fast, and talking faster. "What I really wanted to talk to you about was the kiss." She stopped abruptly. She had intended to be a lot more subtle in bringing up the kiss, but it was too late now.

Booth's eyes had widened a fraction when she mentioned the kiss, but he didn't blurt out anything. He had been tortured by experts, so he was used to refusing to talk under stress. So far it was no contest.

"Which kiss would that be, Angela?" he asked carefully, as though he wasn't exactly sure what she was talking about. Besides, it was true, as far as it went. Bones had kissed him on the cheek too.

Angela was in no mood for tiptoeing around. "I'm talking about the kiss where you and Brennan had each others' tongues down each others' throats, Booth. The one where Caroline practically had to throw cold water on you to break it up. Why do you ask? Is there another one I don't know about?"

Booth stared at Angela. His face remained impassive, but he was in shock. Somebody had obviously told her about the whole thing. He wondered for a split second who had done it, and then just as quickly he knew it was Bones. "She probably described the whole thing like a lab experiment from Kinsey or something," he thought. He frowned at that depressing thought and didn't say anything in response.

"Come on, Booth, don't just sit there pretending it didn't happen. I don't have time for that. I'm trying to help the two of you out here. And contrary to what you may be guessing, Brennan didn't tell me much at all. In fact, she completely denied everything until I convinced her that I knew most of it from other sources, and then all she gave me was confirmation of the facts. So please don't clam up on me now."

Booth continued to stare at Angela, thinking fast. It sounded like she was willing to help him figure out what Bones wanted, but he was still wary. After three years, he knew he could trust her professionally, but he didn't know how much he could trust her on personal matters, especially those involving Brennan. She definitely hadn't been on his side when it came to Brennan/Sully. Then again, what did he have to lose? Maybe she could actually help him figure out what Brennan felt about their relationship. He could usually read Bones like a book, but not when it came to how she really felt about _him_. Finally, taking a deep breath, he said reluctantly,

"OK. It happened, but that's all _I _know about it. Bones basically acts like it meant less than nothing to her, so I really don't see where you're coming from. What exactly did you have in mind when you said you wanted to help?"

Angela said a quick prayer of thanks (for luck) and smiled wryly at Booth's extremely cautious expression. This wasn't going to be easy, but at least she'd gotten Booth to listen. That was a start.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Here's another chapter. It's funny, but in this one the discussion keeps taking quirky little turns that keep adding to the number of chapters, but I don't think there will be too many more. All things belong to Fox and Hart Hanson. Please review so I'll know if you're still out there. Thanks.

* * *

Angela took a deep breath and tried to decide on the best tack to take with Booth. She had to get this right or Booth and Brennan might never get up enough courage to take their relationship to the next level. 

"Listen, Booth," she said, "I don't claim to be the world's greatest expert on relationships. God knows, it took me long enough to find the person_ I _was looking for. And don't worry, I have no intention of telling you anything personal that Bren told me, or vice versa. For one thing, it's a violation of the Best Friends' Code." She smiled tentatively, hoping for a corresponding smile from Booth.

Her little joke didn't seem to have made much of an impression on Booth, if his expression was anything to go by. Angela sensed Booth's uneasiness and couldn't really blame him for it. She hadn't exactly done everything she could to make his life easier since they had known each other. Despite everything he had done for Brennan, the squints still pretty much treated Booth as their favorite target for their humor. She had to admit that, despite the teamwork that had helped to knit them into an efficient professional unit, there was still an aura of "us versus him" in their interpersonal relationships with Booth. Of course, they worked with other law enforcement and FBI personnel, but with Booth it was just more fun because he always got the joke. And he didn't get mad (at least, not often) and he gave as good as he got. It was a lot more enjoyable to joust with someone who always had a smart, sarcastic comeback than with someone who could only give you a blank, uncomprehending stare. In short, Booth was what Jack called a worthy opponent, which a lot of his cohorts were not. But right now she had to convince him that this time she wasn't just trying to get a rise out of him, and was genuinely trying to offer him some serious advice. She therefore tried to look as sincere as she possibly could before she spoke again.

"In all seriousness, Booth, I love Brennan like the sister I never had, and I like you, if not like a brother, at least a whole lot better than I have any of the guys she's dated. I can't stand the thought that you two might mess this up, so I really want to help. Somebody has to. In my opinion, you're making a big mistake if you just leave things the way they are," she said earnestly. "You have to be proactive. I think that you and Brennan have a real chance at a lasting relationship. You're already closer than any two people I know who aren't twins, even though you're coming from totally opposite poles personality-wise. Whoever said 'Opposites attract' must have been talking about you two. And I'm not talking about lust, although there's more than enough of that between you. I'm talking about the other 'L' word. I've been trying to figure out how that's even possible, given that you disagree on most of the big issues like marriage, kids, religion, etc., and I finally came up with a theory. You see, both of you are intensely private people who have been damaged, both by life in general and by affairs of the heart. You've both experienced rejection and loss, and it's left you so gun-shy you either refuse to get serious or you refuse to get involved at all. You'd both rather fall back on an old lover for comfort or a new one you know you don't really care about because it's safer that way. Add to all of that the fact that you're both unapologetically dedicated to your jobs and work tirelessly to be the very best at what you do. So deep down, you understand each other because you have so much in common."

She didn't add what she thought they also had in common, which was that both Booth and Brennan were better looking and hotter than should be legally allowed. Although it was true, Angela didn't think it fit in with the serious tone of the rest of her speech. The longer Angela spoke, the more Booth looked like he wanted to say something. As she paused for breath, he tried to get a word in edgewise.

"Look, Angela, I don't think. . ." As he started to interrupt, Angela held up a hand.

"No, don't interrupt me, or I'll forget what I wanted to say and screw this up. I promise that you'll get your turn when I'm finished, OK? So, what's the upshot of all of that? Basically, you and Brennan have a lot of similar life experiences in common plus the two of you have more sexual chemistry than any four people I know. I think you would have hit the sheets the first week you knew each other except that _you_ refused to go for 'just sex' and _she_ refused to go for anything else. Then you both got involved with other people, so you became friends instead because another thing you have in common is that neither one of you cheats. So it's been a long, rocky road, but you both came through, and at this point the vibes you give off around each other are just, 'WOW.' It's like being in the vicinity of a binary star system—together you throw off enough heat to singe the eyebrows of everyone else in the vicinity. In other words, it makes the rest of us just want to yell 'Get a room!' Only we're too polite."

Angela paused and looked at him. "And _please_ don't tell me you haven't noticed that, because you're a liar if you do. Hell, even Caroline Julian noticed it."

Booth was looking extremely uncomfortable, not to mention skeptical, but he didn't say anything. He was staring at the floor like there might be evidence of a crime there. She gave him a long look, trying to gauge his reaction to her comments. She finally shook her head slightly, and continued.

"Not surprisingly, both of you put a huge value on your friendship. It's pretty much priceless to you. You can't even imagine losing it, and you're scared to death that if you try to take it to the next level you _will_ lose it. So you revolve around each other in this crazy, uneasy dance. You go back and forth between getting closer, generating huge sparks, and then getting scared and backing off to a safer distance. But neither one of you can or even wants to break out of the other's orbit. So you're stuck in a vicious cycle. You want each other so much you can't stand to think about it, because it hurts so much to want what you think you can't have. So you deny that you feel 'that way' about each other and try to maintain the status quo. The only problem is that that's not going to work indefinitely. In fact, it's not working now. Come on, admit it, it's been almost impossible for you to think about anything else but Brennan since Christmas. Brennan opened up Pandora's Box and all the denial in the world isn't going to allow you to go back to not knowing what kissing each other feels like. And as if that wasn't bad enough, now you also have to be obsessed with how great the sex will be."

Angela gave Booth a minute for that to sink in, and watched in fascination while a red flush crept up his neck and into his face. There were some reactions even a seasoned undercover operative couldn't hide. The poor guy really had it bad.

"So the question is, where do you go from here?" Angela searched Booth's face and body language. It was not encouraging. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, and he was still staring a hole in her office carpet. He clearly wasn't buying her arguments. She sighed and offered her last piece of advice on how Booth should handle the situation.

"Frankly, given that between the two of you, Bren has less social expertise, I think that it's up to you to make the next move. After all, she was the one who agreed to the mistletoe thing. That's a huge positive step for her. She could have just told Caroline 'No way,' but she didn't. I mean, this time last year, she never would have gone along with the whole kiss-under-the-mistletoe idea. So _you_ obviously need to do something to reciprocate so she knows that your response to the kiss is positive."

As Angela looked at him expectantly, Booth did not feel that he could share her optimism that all he needed to do was make a move on Bones and everything would work out. He just couldn't give her the positive answer she obviously expected from him. She thought that Bones was looking for him to make a move, but she didn't have all the facts that he had. He zeroed in on her last comments.

"This time last year she was sleeping with Sully," Booth said flatly, with the air of a man who knew the exact date that _that_ had occurred. "Look, Angela, I know you mean well, especially when it comes to trying to help Bones, but I think you've got it wrong this time. Like I said, she basically acts like it meant less than nothing to her." He paused, and looked down again.

"She even told Sweets that it was nothing," he said in a low voice. It was obvious to Angela that this fact carried a lot of weight with Booth.

"I can't believe that, Booth," Angela interrupted impatiently. "I'm sure that wasn't what she meant. What did she say to Sweets? What were her exact words?"

Booth looked extremely reluctant, but at her raised eyebrow he finally elaborated, "She told him that it 'meant nothing,' and that it 'had nothing to do with sex.' In fact, she told him it was 'totally sexless,' and gave him the impression that it only happened because of the mistletoe." His tone made it obvious that he had gone over and over Brennan's remarks in his mind, and had them pretty much memorized, but that he found no hope in them at all.

"Oh for God's sake, Booth, don't you recognize DENIAL when you hear it? You should, you've been just as guilty of it as Bren has," Angela exclaimed in exasperation. "You have to look beyond what she _says_ to how she _acts_."

"Yeah, well, 'how she acts' is 'like it never happened,' and 'like she never wants it to happen again.' And if you're wrong, and I do kiss her, she'll probably tell the FBI I'm sexually harassing her or something and refuse to work with me again, which means my career goes down the toilet along with everything else," Booth almost snarled. It was clear that the discussion was having a bad effect on his temper.

"Give me a break! You know she'd never do that._ How_ many women have you dated?" Angela cried in exasperation.

"Very funny. Well, trust me, none of them were _anything_ like Bones. Most women are pretty easy to profile, but not Bones," Booth responded, reverting to grim resignation.

Angela took a closer look at Booth's expression and took pity on him. The poor guy was obviously suffering. He wasn't even trying to hide his pain and frustration any more.

"Look, sweetie, you've _got_ to trust me because this time, it's different. Whatever she says, subconsciously Bren _wants_ you to make a move, but she doesn't know how to signal it because of the 'we're just partners' crap getting in the way. So outwardly she pretends everything is normal, while inwardly she daydreams about kissing you again. You _have_ to do something, or your window of opportunity will close and you might not get another chance any time soon, if ever!"

Booth sighed, lost in thought, wishing he could believe her. "I'll think about it," he promised at last.

"Come on, Booth! Go for it! Remember, 'The valiant die but once'," Angela said encouragingly.

"I said 'I'll think about it' and I will," Booth snapped. "It's not something I can just rush into. If I do it, I have to plan for exactly the right opportunity, and allow for contingencies, and even then the logistics might not work out. Then I have to have a fall back plan."

"Oh lord," Angela thought, "He's talking about it like a military campaign. That's never a good sign. That kind of thinking comes from the wrong side of the brain. Damn it, why do men always fall back on their training in times of emotional stress? Even the ones who only ever had Cub Scout training do it. It's totally the wrong kind of strategic thinking in situations like this. And hell, now he has me thinking like that too."

Out loud she said calmly, "Listen, sweetie, just remember that Bren isn't thinking about all of this rationally. In fact, she's not really thinking at all. She's operating on instinct, and how she feels. Anything else is just camouflage. So you need to respond based on how _you_ feel, and try not to over-think things, OK?"

Booth nodded, but his mind was clearly not fully concentrating on what she was saying.

"Well! Well! Well!" boomed the voice of Jack Hodgins in a loud, intrusive tone as he walked into the room. "If it isn't the FBI's finest and my favorite forensic artist, together in one room. How are you, my lovely?" he asked, giving Angela a quick kiss.

Without pausing he then threw himself into Angela's other guest chair and commented, "God, what a boring meeting. They really shouldn't allow archaeologists to run the meetings. They are so damned slow to come to the point and make decisions, you'd think they had a couple of millennia to do it in. And to add injury to insult, they serve lousy snacks." He leaned back in his chair and looked around.

"I see that Drs. Brennan and Saroyan aren't back from lunch with the visiting FA from FLA. So what have you two been up to?" He looked quickly back and forth from Booth to Angela, totally ignoring Angela's signals to shut the hell up and go away. He was quick to spot the undercurrents in the room.

"Hey, it looks like you've been having a serious discussion here. Now what the hell could that be all about? You two never have serious discussions unless we have a case, and we don't. Come on Angela, what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Jack. Booth was just asking my advice on what to get his cousin who's graduating from college. She's an artist. Even with my help, he still can't decide." Angela Montenegro was nothing if not prepared. She had her excuse ready for just such a visit by a third party.

"Yeah, thanks for your help, Angela," Booth said as he stood up. "I'll let you know what I decide, and how well that turns out. I'll see you later." With that, he headed toward the lab exit.

"Now why does my Spidey sense tell me that what you two were discussing had absolutely nothing to do with art supplies?" Jack asked the room at large.

"You know I love you, Jack, but you have the absolute worst timing in the Northern Hemisphere, and possibly the world," Angela said wryly. All she could do was hope Booth would take her suggestion seriously and act on it. Who knew how long it would be before Brennan reverted to normal and decided that kissing Booth was the last thing in the world she wanted to do because it might mean losing him? Only Temperance Brennan could view _that_ as a rational thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: This chapter is a little short, but what I intended to be the last chapter was already twice as long as normal and still incomplete, so I split it up. Please review. Thanks.

* * *

After sitting in Angela's office trying to get her to talk for a few more minutes, Jack gave up, saying "I guess I'd better go and start working so that Cam will be suitably impressed with my dedication when she gets back. Let me know when you're ready to go home." 

Angela got to work on her own paperwork and didn't pause until she heard the sound of voices in the hall. Looking up, she saw Brennan and Cam and walked out to meet them.

"Well, did you have a good meeting with the guy from Florida? Was he dazzled by our state-of-the-art facility or what?" she asked them jokingly. That morning she had demonstrated the Angelator and a few other hi-tech gadgets and the visiting forensic anthropologist had looked green with envy.

"The meeting was fine, Ange," Brennan replied. "He wants me to co-author a paper with him but I'm not sure I want to do it yet. I don't like being listed as an author unless I contributed substantially to the research."

"No offense, sweetie, but he just wants your name on it so someone will actually read the thing," Angela responded. "You don't actually have to do anything."

"Angela, he is a well-respected anthropologist who does excellent work," Brennan chided her. "He doesn't need my name on his work to get it accepted."

"He does if he wants the news media to take note of it, Bren. Let's face it, he doesn't write best-selling crime novels, so he's automatically got an infinitesimal fraction of your name recognition," Angela shot back.

Cam had followed this exchange with an amused expression. At the last remark, she wryly shook her head at Angela and said, "Well, this is all extremely fascinating, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to it. I have a dental appointment, so I won't be back until tomorrow morning. For obvious reasons, I'm sure you'll have a more pleasant afternoon than I will," Cam said as she turned into her office. "See you tomorrow."

Brennan and Angela continued on to Brennan's office and sat down. While Brennan went through her in-box and e-mails, they discussed the forensic anthropologist's visit and the more interesting points of some of the cases he had talked about.

"Booth was here earlier," Angela told Brennan. "He left you some paperwork on a case." She watched carefully for any tell-tale signs at the mention of the name, but if Brennan had any reaction to missing his visit, she managed to keep it out of her expression.

"Yes, the last time we talked he mentioned that it would come in some time this week," she replied, sounding like her mind was on something else. Angela hoped it was on kissing Booth.

They chatted for a few more minutes about various projects Angela was working on. Finally, Angela got up to return to her office.

"Well, I guess I'll get back to it, then. Let me know more when you have the details on that compilation of unidentified victims you wanted me to do."

As she turned to head back to her office, Zack Addy walked in and stopped just inside the door. He didn't try to interrupt their conversation, but by his expression, Angela could tell he had something fairly important to tell them.

"OK, Zack, what is it?" she asked. "Do you want to tell us all about the meeting on the Arizona remains since you were there in Dr. Brennan's place, or is it something else?"

Ever literal-minded, Zack replied, "It's something else."

Angela rolled her eyes and glanced at Brennan, who gave her an admonishing look and asked, "What is it, Zack?"

"I was in the break room eating my lunch, since the meeting ran over and I didn't get to take my lunch hour during my usual time. I was watching a local TV channel when they interrupted with a 'Breaking News' bulletin. I think you should see it," Zack explained, holding out a small hand-held TV. He pulled the ear-phone out, turned up the volume and set it on Brennan's desk.

"For those of you just joining us, there has been an attempted armed robbery here at a local Bank of America branch. At about 2:15 PM an armed man wearing a ski mask entered the bank and demanded money from the tellers. He exchanged gunfire with a bank security guard and then ran out the front doors where he was seen by an FBI agent. Apparently the agent, who just happened to stop at the ATM machine during the robbery, assisted the bank security guard in apprehending the suspect, and was wounded in the shootout. According to information just received exclusively by Fox News, the agent was recognized by bank employees as a long time customer of the bank, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. Booth was rushed to the George Washington University Hospital trauma unit, where his condition is unknown. Many of you will remember Agent Booth from his part in the capture of Howard Epps last year, and also from his work on the more recent DC Cannibal case. We'll have further updates on this and other breaking stories tonight on Fox News at 5. This is Matt Williams reporting for Fox 5 News."

There was a shocked silence in the room. Brennan stood as though frozen after the end of the newscast, blind panic in her eyes. Angela took one look at her and took charge.

"Zack, my car keys are on my desk in the pottery bowl. Go and ask Jack to bring the car around to the lower level garage entrance." Zack hurried off.

"Sweetie, let me just get my purse and we can leave as soon as possible. Thank God the hospital is only a few blocks away. Do you need anything? Never mind, I'll grab my stuff and meet you back here. Wait a minute--you'd better sit down and wait for me. You look like you might fall over if you don't," she concluded, guiding Brennan to the couch. "Don't move, sweetie. Put your head between your knees if you feel faint. I'll be right back." She rushed out.

Brennan sat on the couch where Angela left her. She was having trouble thinking clearly, but she recognized her symptoms. Her mouth felt dry with fear, she was cold, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She knew that she had to get back under control before she saw Booth. She knew that she must remain rational and calm in order to function. She would not be any good to Booth otherwise. But she couldn't seem to think of how to achieve that. Instead, only one coherent phrase kept repeating in her head--like a prayer, except that she didn't believe in praying. It sounded frighteningly similar to the one she still remembered from the day her parents had disappeared.

"Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right. Please let him be all right . . ."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: I'm basing what happens in this chapter on something that Emily Deschanel once said about Brennan--that she takes her time before she makes up her mind, but once she finally does she jumps in with both feet. This is my interpretation of Bones doing that. Please review and let me know what you think of it.

* * *

Brennan was beginning to feel dizzy and, remembering Angela's advice, she lowered her head to her knees. After a minute or two, she began to feel like she could think again. Her feeling of panic was slowly subsiding. Her mind seemed to be full of random thoughts, but it was definitely functional again. She automatically began to put the facts into order so that they made sense. It had been irrational to think the worst. Booth hadn't been pronounced dead at the scene, or they would have said so. The news report had said that his condition was "Unknown," not "Critical." And statistically speaking, Booth had a pretty low probability of having received a fatal wound, especially given the speed with which he had been taken to the hospital. 

That thought triggered a sudden memory of Booth, laughing as he quoted statistics back at her to prove her wrong. He'd called it "turning your opponent's own weapons against her." They had been at the shooting range, where Booth had put two shots into every part of the target with pinpoint accuracy—not showing off, just going through his usual routine. And that in turn reminded her of the time he had pretended he wasn't a very good shot in order to give her a feeling of superiority, so that she would . . . what? She had never quite figured out why he had done that. She would have to remember to ask him.

She had to get to the hospital to do that. She tested her legs. They felt like they would be able to support her now. She got up and poured a glass of water from the bottle on her desk and drank it. Good. Now her mouth didn't feel so dry. Dehydration could result in erratic thinking. She felt much better. Calm. Rational. Where was Angela? Brennan was ready to leave--in fact, she should already be at the hospital. Booth would probably laugh at her and say, 'What took you so long?' Booth. He was her anchor--the one man she relied on who had never let her down. What would she do if he . . . No! That was emotion taking over again. She refused to allow it. Booth would be fine if she could just get to the hospital. The irrationality of that thought didn't even occur to her as she grabbed her bag and started toward Angela's office.

Meanwhile, Angela had reached her office and grabbed her purse. She was hunting frantically through her desk looking for Jack's flask of brandy, which he had jokingly hidden in her office because "they would never think of looking for it there." She finally found it in the cabinet behind her desk and had turned to rush back to Brennan when she saw Jack hurrying toward her.

"Zack just told me some garbled story about Booth being at a bank robbery and getting shot. What the hell happened? Is he OK?"

"I have no idea, Jack. We won't know until we get to GWU. That's where they took him. Did Zack give you the car keys? Good. I have to go back to Brennan's office and get her. She was feeling a little faint, so I'm taking the brandy. We'll meet you down by the elevators on the lower level."

"What if Brennan can't walk. Maybe I should come with you," Jack offered.

"Just go get the car, Jack. You know Zack can't drive," Angela replied hastily. "We'll be fine. I'll wheel her down in her office chair, if necessary."

By the time Angela started back to Brennan's office, she saw Brennan coming to meet her. Angela grabbed her by the shoulders and said, "Sweetie, are you sure you're OK? I brought Jack's flask if you want some brandy," Brennan didn't hesitate.

"No, I'm OK, Ange," she said quietly. "I think it was just the unexpected shock, or something. I'm fine now. Really."

They hurried over to the elevator and pushed the button for the lower level. As usual, the garage elevator seemed to take forever. When they got to the lower level, Jack and Zack were waiting for them in Angela's car. As they got into the back seat of the car, Angela thought of something and said urgently,

"Jack, it's almost five o'clock, which means it's been nearly three hours since it happened. We need to call the hospital to see what's going on."

"But it's only a few blocks. By the time we get anyone on the phone we'll be there," he protested. Then he saw the glare Angela was giving him in the rear view mirror and said placatingly, "OK, OK, I'll call."

Traffic at that hour was in its' usual snarl, so it seemed to Brennan to be taking hours to drive the few blocks from the Jeffersonian to the hospital.

"I can't get through," Jack muttered in exasperation, pulling out his ear piece. "They just keep putting me on hold."

Brennan jumped when he honked the horn at some jerk who ran the red light and almost hit them. She felt like getting out of the car and walking the rest of the way. When they finally arrived at the Emergency Room entrance she had the door open and was out of the car almost before it stopped rolling..

"You guys go park the car. I'll go in with Bren," Angela ordered tersely. She didn't think Brennan would want them to see her break down if the news was bad. She slammed the car door shut behind her and hurried after Brennan. Inside, a guard directed them to the triage area.

Without looking up, the nurse at the desk said "May I help you?"

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. My partner, Seeley Booth, was brought here a short while ago, and I want to see him, if possible, or at least get an update on his status."

"Oh I didn't see you there, Dr. Brennan. Of _course_ you're here to see Agent Booth. He's the one you dedicated your book to. Oh, it's such a pleasure meeting you. I've read all your books. They're wonderful," she gushed.

"Thank you," Brennan said automatically. She felt like screaming at the woman's irrelevant reply. She tried again, sounding much more patient than she felt.

"What is Agent Booth's status? Has he had surgery yet?"

"Oh, Agent Booth is still down here. They've decided to wait and see about surgery, so now we're just waiting for a bed to open up. He's in room 3. It's down the hall past the waiting area, the third door on your right. Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you . . ." the nurse continued, but she was talking to thin air as Brennan was already walking quickly down the hall toward the room.

Brennan was feeling light-headed again, but this time it was with relief. Booth was going to be all right! The elation she felt made her want to do something physical, like jump for joy, but instead she walked faster. Angela had to hurry to catch up with her. As they got closer to room 3, they could hear a male voice speaking. It sounded weak and was very difficult to hear, so they couldn't understand what he was saying. Then another voice came to them loud and clear. They stopped automatically to listen.

"I don't care what they did when you were wounded in combat, Agent Booth. From the CT scan it appears that the bullet didn't do any major organ or tissue damage, but it's possible that an exploratory laparotomy will still be necessary later on if the situation warrants it. You're stable for now, but that could change at any time. The pain medication we just gave you should help you get some rest. I'm afraid you're going to have to stay here so that we can monitor the situation until we're certain there is no danger of complications. And that's exactly what I'm going to tell Deputy Director Cullen when I talk to him. He's already called twice for an update on you, by the way."

Then came the other voice again, still weak but unmistakable—Seeley Booth's voice.

"OK, doc, you win. Thanks." He sounded exhausted.

That conversation told Brennan all she needed to know about Booth's condition. She started walking again as soon as she heard Booth's voice through the partially opened door. She didn't pause as she entered and saw Booth's startled but welcoming look. She didn't even stop to look at the doctor standing on the other side of the room. Instead, she walked over to the man in the bed, bent down until her face was within inches of his, and looked into his eyes.

"Don't ever do that again," she told Booth in a trembling, husky voice.

Then she lowered her head and kissed him on the mouth. She had placed her hands carefully on the pillows on either side of Booth's head to keep her balance, and didn't straighten up until several more than five steamboats had passed. From the doorway, Angela noted that fact with great satisfaction.

When Brennan finally raised her head, Booth's face had a rather stunned expression, but he looked pretty happy for a man who had just been shot.

"Don't ever do what again? My job?" he asked, looking slightly shell-shocked. "How did you find out where I was so quick?"

"Zack saw it on the news. They said you'd been shot. We came as soon as we heard about it. You were lucky you were only a couple of blocks from the hospital."

Behind Brennan, the doctor cleared his throat.

"Well, Agent Booth, since your partner is here to see you I'll leave you with your visitors. But only until we find a room for you. Then they'll need to let you get some rest. Dr. Brennan, I'm sure I can rely on you to help convince him to remain here until it's safe for him to be at home on his own. It's a pleasure to meet you, by the way. My wife and I love your books. Agent Booth, I'll see you when I make my rounds later this evening."

He nodded at both of them and then turned and left the room.

"Thank you, doctor," Brennan murmured, and leaned down to kiss Booth again.

Angela was pretty sure that neither one of them would ever worry that _these_ kisses "meant nothing." Brennan was acting totally unselfconscious--like she'd been kissing Booth for years. She had obviously decided the rewards of a closer relationship with Booth far outweighed the risks, and was making her decision clear in her usual forthright manner. Booth looked totally bemused, but happier than Angela had ever seen him. Angela managed to catch Booth's eye over Brennan's shoulder when the kiss ended. She gave him a wink and turned around and walked out, quietly closing the door behind her.

Booth stared as Angela winked and disappeared from the room, leaving him alone with Bones. The first kiss from Bones had boggled his mind, but the second kiss made him wonder if he was losing it. He had to be hallucinating as a result of the drugs he had been given, because Bones had kissed him twice in the space of five minutes with no mistletoe in sight. And they hadn't been "partner-like" kisses either. The only problem was, although he felt slightly light-headed and "woozy," he didn't really feel that out of it. They must be trying out some new pain meds that caused hallucinations but no other side effects. It was weird, though. Everything had seemed totally normal until she walked into the room. He still felt some pain from his wound, so the meds hadn't kicked in completely. He looked back at Brennan. She was dragging the visitor's chair over so that she could sit down.

"How are you feeling, Booth?" she asked, taking his left hand in both of hers and holding it tightly. "We were so worried when we first heard it on the news. They just said you'd been taken to the hospital. They didn't know what your condition was."

Booth stared at her and wondered if she was really there. It sure felt like she was holding his hand. He decided to answer her question, just in case.

"I'm OK, Bones. Don't worry, I can take care of myself. They shouldn't let them put that kind of half-assed report on TV. I'm sorry you were so worried." To his surprise, tears appeared in her eyes.

"You always do that—try to downplay how badly you're hurt. When are you going to learn that you're not indestructible?" she chided as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Booth didn't know what to say, so he just squeezed her hand tightly with his. She returned the pressure, started to say something, and then stopped. After another hesitation, she took a deep breath and continued.

"When I heard the news, I . . .I was afraid that you were dead," she said in a low voice, looking down at their linked hands. "It was like it was when my parents disappeared—not knowing. When I realized that I might never see you again, I . . . I couldn't stand it. Not again."

"Bones . . ."

"No, let me finish," she interrupted him. "I realized that what I've been doing is a mistake, and I don't want to do it any more. I want to stop playing games and . . . what is it you always say? 'Lay all my cards on the table.'"

Suddenly she looked up into his eyes, and Booth felt a pain that had nothing to do with his injuries. God, she was so beautiful, with her bluer-than-blue eyes. But it was her expression that really got to him—her expression was naked, vulnerable. For once, all of her walls were down. She was hurting and he wanted to hold her and try to make everything all right for her, the way he always did.

"Temperance . . ." Booth automatically tried to reach over with his other hand to touch her, but the sharp pain in his right side made him gasp and fall back on the pillows.

"What are you . . .? Would you please remember that you have a bullet wound in your side and you're not supposed to be trying to move? Do you_ want_ to have to have surgery?" Bones scolded him.

"Sorry. Forgot." Booth gasped. He was still breathless from the pain, so his reply was short and to the point.

"Please just let me finish what I was going to say, Booth. It's important," Brennan said, staring down at their hands again. She wanted to tell him what she really felt, but expressing her emotions wasn't her strong point. Her thoughts about her feelings never seemed to coalesce into coherent sentences the way her thoughts about hard facts did. Here she was trying to formulate the most important speech of her life, and her mind was blank. Instead of saying what she felt, she could only sit here hanging onto Booth's hand like he was her lifeline. Which, of course, he was. There was a knock on the door and it opened, but she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even look up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: I'm really sorry it's been so long between updates, but my mom has been in the hospital and recovering at home, so I haven't had any spare time to even think of doing any writing. Now that she's feeling better, I'm going to try to finish this fic and "Tough Decisions." I hope that a few of you are still with me. Let me know if you want another chapter. Thanks.

* * *

When Angela emerged from Booth's room, she saw Jack and Zack standing at the nurse's station and walked over to meet them. She was still smiling about the way Brennan had kissed Booth. It was amazing what momentous events could happen in the time it took for valet parking.

"How's Booth?" Jack asked. "I take it from the pleased smile on your face that there's not too much wrong with him."

"Actually, he's got a serious bullet wound in his side so they're keeping him in for a few more days, but other than that he's fine," Angela replied smugly. She thought of the last view she'd had of Booth and Brennan and grinned. "Better than fine, actually. We can visit him tomorrow."

"That doesn't make sense. How can he be 'better than fine' if he has a serious bullet wound?" Zack asked with a puzzled expression.

"The fact that Brennan's still in there with him with the door closed is a good sign, though," Jack said, grinning back at Angela. He put an arm around her waist and said, "What do you say we go out for dinner and celebrate?"

"Celebrate what?" Zack asked. "Booth will hopefully recover, but he's still suffering from a serious wound. That's not usually a reason to party."

"Let's just say that his personal life just took a huge turn for the better and leave it at that, shall we? I agree that we should go out and celebrate. Jack's buying. I'll go tell Bren," Angela laughed, thinking that all her attempts at meddling in friends' lives should work out so well. Maybe she had a future in couples' counseling like Sweets.

When Angela knocked on the door and stuck her head in again, Brennan didn't even look up from her chair beside the bed. She was holding Booth's hand very tightly in both of hers.

"Sweetie, we're going to Morton's to grab a bite to eat. Do you want us to bring you something?"

"No thanks, Ange," Brennan replied. "I'm not hungry."

"What time do you want us to come back for you, sweetie?" Angela asked.

"Don't bother coming back for me, Ange," Brennan answered. "I'll grab a cab back to my car. Goodnight"

"OK, sweetie, will do," Angela responded cheerfully. She looked at Booth. "You get well soon, G-Man. Remember, you've got more important things to do than spend all your time flat on your back in a hospital bed! You've still got to come up with a 'fall back plan!' In the meantime, take care of yourself. The rest of us will see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, thanks. Good night, Angela," Booth said absently, not even acknowledging the fact that Angela had referred to their earlier conversation about "The Kiss." Considering what had happened since then, the morning seemed like a very long time ago. Instead, he was staring at the top of Bones' head, trying to figure out if she was OK, and wishing he could hold her in his arms the way he always did when she was upset. Neither he nor Brennan noticed when Angela closed the door.

Angela breezed back down the hall and found Jack and Zack in the waiting area, watching the news on TV.

"Booth was all over the local news," Zack said.

"Yeah, they interviewed the guard, and he said Booth wouldn't have gotten shot if he hadn't tried to keep the guard from getting shot. Typical Booth," Jack said with a smile.

"And we wouldn't want him any other way," Angela said, smiling back. Then she grabbed Jack's arm and turned toward the exit.

"Well boys, don't just stand there," she cried with mock impatience. "We need to find a table at the best restaurant in town! Jack, start throwing your Cantilever weight around, because only the best will do. This is an historic night!"

* * *

After Angela left them alone again, Brennan looked up at Booth. He was beginning to look like he was having trouble staying awake, but he was obviously waiting for her to continue. He squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging look, so she took a deep breath and tried again.

"What happened today has really made me think. I know this isn't the first time you've been seriously hurt, but this time it's different. To me anyway. It's like I feel a greater sense of urgency to take action that I didn't feel before."

She paused, trying to think of the right words, wishing she could be more like other people when it came to explaining how she felt. She decided it would be easier if she didn't look at Booth's face. She looked down at their entwined hands instead.

"I know this will seem like a _non sequitur_, but I had a professor once that I admired a lot. Not because he was an expert in his field, although he was, but because I thought that he was a wise man. He used to say you should try to go through life without having any regrets, especially for things you wish you had done but didn't have the courage to do, because once your time is up you don't get a second chance."

Booth was listening intently to what Bones was saying, but he didn't understand what she was trying to say. Usually, unless she was spouting a bunch of incomprehensible scientific jargon, he had no problem grasping whatever point she was trying to make, but not today. The painkillers must be slowing him down a little. He was happy just to be alive and able to lie here and watch her beautiful face as she spoke and remember what it had felt like when she kissed him. As for what she was saying, no doubt if it was something important, she'd remind him about it tomorrow. But just as his eyelids were dropping down over his eyes, the last part of what she said caught his attention. There was something that Bones hadn't had the courage to do and she had regrets.

Booth struggled to keep his eyes open. He wanted to know what she meant, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He finally lost his battle with the drugs and fell asleep, unaware that Brennan hadn't finished. Brennan, determined to tell Booth everything, didn't notice and kept talking.

"I think that for a long time you and I have both wanted to try to have a closer relationship, but we haven't had the courage because we're afraid of losing what we have. I don't know how you feel about that right now, but when my time comes I don't want my last thought to be regret that I never tried to have something more with you."

When Booth didn't say anything, Brennan finally looked at him for a response, only to find that he was fast asleep.

"The least you could do is stay awake until I finished talking!" she thought, upset that now she would have to get up the courage to tell him all over again. But she couldn't really hold it against him. Even in sleep, there were lines of pain and exhaustion on his face that hadn't been there before. She looked at her watch and saw it was almost six. It seemed impossible that she had only gotten to the hospital an hour ago. She thought about getting something to eat, but didn't really feel hungry. She poured herself a cup of water from the carafe on Booth's bedside table, and decided to just sit by Booth's bed until he woke up or the hospital kicked her out, whichever came first. After more than an hour had passed, she began to feel stiff sitting in one position, and moved around trying to get comfortable. It was obvious that hospital chairs were not meant to be conducive to long term sitting. Finally, she grabbed an extra pillow from the other chair and put it on the edge of the bed. She placed her elbows under the pillow and leaned her head on it. She would just rest a little while waiting for Booth to wake up.

Several hours later, the first thing Booth became aware of was someone's breathing close by. He thought he recognized the scent of Bones' soap and breathed it in. He opened his eyes and there she was, smiling at him. He smiled back sleepily. It seemed that she hadn't been a dream after all. The unguarded expression on Booth's face brought moisture to Brennan's eyes. 'It's not his cocky smile, or his charm smile, or his amused smile,' she thought. It reminded her of Parker's smile at Christmas—warm and loving and filled with unalloyed happiness. She squeezed his hand gently.

"How do you feel? Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, feeling awkward and not wanting to let the silence last too long. She was finding it more and more difficult not to give in to the emotional stress of the past few hours and give way to tears, but she didn't want to upset Booth. Booth was still too groggy to take in Brennan's shaky emotional state. He was just happy to see her at his side.

"Please tell me I'm not delirious with fever. No, wait, on second thought if this isn't real, I don't want to know," he said, still sounding very sleepy. "As for what you can do for me . . . you're doing it. But maybe in a day or two when I'm not as likely to leak blood all over the place, you can ask me that question again. Right now, I've got this annoying urge to go to sleep again, but I'm afraid to in case I stop dreaming. I think they gave me something."

"Painkillers," Bones said. "The nurse came in a few minutes ago and gave you some more pain medication. You're not exactly making sense, but you're definitely not dreaming..." She let go of his hand and allowed her fingers to rest lightly on his left leg as proof.

Booth's eyes had once again closed involuntarily due to the drugs, but he allowed himself to savor the feel of Brennan's touch. Unfortunately, at the moment the signals from his brain to his extremities didn't seem to be in working order. But one day in the not-too-distant future he would be able to respond to her touch the way that he wanted to. And the way he felt about her, he didn't think they'd make it out of bed for the foreseeable future. He hoped that Brennan had a lot of vacation saved up. Then again, he was almost positive that he was dreaming most of this, so he figured he'd just enjoy it while it lasted.

"Bones, I never thought I'd say this when I was in the same bedroom with you, but I don't think I can stay awake," Booth said, his speech slurred. "Promise me you'll be here when I wake up."

There was a brief pause during which Brennan had to swallow the lump in her throat. They were so very lucky that he was going to be waking up from now on.

"I promise I'll be here when you wake up," she repeated in a husky voice. "Always," she added in an almost inaudible whisper. She had never made a promise like that to anyone before, and she didn't think she had ever in her life made a promise that was more heartfelt. Booth was now fast asleep again, so Brennan found the switch on his call button, dimmed the lights, and settled back in her chair. For a little while, at least, she would be the one the watch over him. And as soon as he recovered, she'd offer to help him with his "fall back plan," whatever that was. She'd have to ask Angela. She smiled in anticipation. After all, strategic planning had always been one of her specialties.


End file.
